*two years prior*
The Razor Crest shuddered and hissed as its hydraulics adjusted to Nevarro's rocky landscape and a few moments later the ramp lowered with a clang. The subtle tick tick of Beskar plates making contact with one another ringed out with each one of his steps. Once his ship was secured, he started off to the city gates.
It was an unusually bright day, causing his shadow to double in length, stretching out along the uneven stone streets. Around him, pedestrians shrunk away from him and his shadow, as if it would burn them if it cast over their feet. The streets parted for him as he clinked through on his way to meet his expeditor, with hushed whispers of 'Mandalorian' and 'bounty hunter'. And while this is what awaited him on every planet he arrived on, Din Djarin never quite got used to it.
The cantina that served as Nevarro's guild hub clanged with chatter. As he stepped in that didn't change, which was in direct contradiction to out on the streets. But these were other bounty hunters, and a Mandalorian in beat-up, rusted armor was far from the strangest thing they'd seen.
As Din made his way to the booth to speak to the guild expeditor Greef Karga, many types of beings filled his view. Calimari pirates arguing over drink prices; Rodian merchants and guild captains playing cards; Twileks adorned in armor with tracking fobs strapped to their waists. Such a menagerie of lives coming together for their joint occupation. Out of the corner of his eye, a glint of orange and teal caught his gaze.
He followed the colors to the hair of a woman. She was perched at the bar in fitted gray coveralls, synched at the waist by a brown utility belt. And at the end of her long legs she wore muddy back boots with the scuff marks of running. She was wearing all the right things, but she still didn't blend in amongst the rabble. It was something about her, maybe the way she held herself that conveyed that she would be much more at home somewhere else. The myriad of colors that drew him to her in the first place were delicate glass beads she's strung on leather cord and plaited into her brunette hair. The strands were twisted into a braided crown around her head, decorated with the beads throughout. Scarlet reds, burnt oranges, cerulean blues, and light teals sprinkled through her hair, not unlike one of those art pieces they were so fond of on Coruscant. Such lively colors were in contrast with the traditional intent of the bounty hunter occupation.
"Mando!" A voice called. Din pulled his eyes from the watercolor painting that was this woman's hair and towards the origin of the call. Greef Karga waved him over to a table where two drinks sat. Greef always ordered Din a drink and it always went untouched. A wasteful effort that annoyed Din to no end. He crossed to Karga and sat across from him wordlessly. He pushed three tracking fobs across the table to his colleague and waited for payment knowing the carbonited bounties were being retrieved as they spoke.
"Excellent," Karga crooned as he collected the three fobs. "You never disappoint, Mando." In return, Karga slid a handful of credits across to Din.
"What's next?" Din asked, not willing to say any more than necessary.
"I don't have much to choose from. I've got a couple of Pirates wanted on Tattooine for two hundred and fifty credits, a war mongers' daughter who ran off for three hundred. Hmm, let's see," Karga replied, swiping through holographs of the wanted. "Oh! Here's a spice runner for five hundred!" Din stayed silent, not nearly impressed by the choices. Karga sighed and turned the holo off, "I'm sorry, I don't have anything with higher rates," he said. "You came about five minutes too late."
Din looked around at the hunters around him. Nearly everyone was in a sour mood. They slammed their drinks down onto the counter, shoulder shoved each other as they exited. And while this was not completely uncommon, there were a lot more surly hunters than normal. They also had not gotten good jobs.
